My Name Is Xinnia And I'm A Vampire
by Ciya
Summary: A vampire's observations on life and the Winchesters.


_Anything and everything, within reason, that came to mind was written in - the more snarky the better. Set after 'Blood Lust'. _

**My Name Is Xinnia…And I'm A Vampire**

I came, I saw, I conquered, I bought the t-shirt…hunter green…then I met the Winchesters. Ain't karma a bitch? Next thing I know I'm running for my life. No more scintillating conversations; ahh, the begging, the pleading, the promises of riches beyond my wildest dreams. Mmmmm…yet the conversations always ended in the same way - screaming, gurgling then silence. No more exotic meals either, unless you consider a Chinese Crested dog and a few longhaired hamsters exotic. I'm going to let you in on a little secret - hamsters taste bad, really, really bad; plus picking all that fur out of one's fangs isn't fun. Quadrupeds are not an improvement over bipeds. Now I'm constantly on the move, keeping the lowest of low profiles. My life sucks - no pun intended.

The minute Tom walked into the house with Charlene I knew the crap was going to hit the fan. "Call me Charlee - with a double 'e'," she quipped brightly while rubbing her surgically enhanced chest against Tom's side. He just stood there with this stupid smile on his face and his hand inside the front pocket of Charlee's mini skirt. I could see why he was selected to head the family right there. Not.

"Call me appalled with a double 'p'," I muttered staring at the Jessica Simpson wannabe. When I attempted to talk to the little uhm…Barbie doll is the nicest thing I can think of…she more or less proved my first impression was correct. Do you remember that commercial where the girl says, 'I don't eat meat because I'm a veterinarian'? Well Charlee, double 'e' and all, made that girl sound like a Nobel Laureate. I could feel my eyes cross and my brain go numb as I listened to her prattle on about a petition she signed to outlaw dihydrogen monoxide since it kills thousands of people and animals everyday. Yep, she wanted to outlaw water.

Three months after the redheaded bimbette moved in, I found myself pulling Tom aside and pointing out in no uncertain terms that Charlee's complete lack of common sense and self-preservation God gave a gnat was drawing the attention of the wrong people. I also told him that she's a liability waiting to happen and she has to go NOW. Unfortunately for everyone involved, when Tom sees a short skirt and a low-cut top; his upper brain shuts off, his lower brain kicks in and he goes stupid. You'd think after a hundred and twenty some odd years, close to a century of that being undead, his hormone levels would have decreased…but no. Men. It's been over two centuries since I was turned and I'm finding myself eyeing the knife block while empathizing with Lorena Bobbitt more and more.

In the end, I was right. Charlee went after a college kid and ended up a foot shorter. When I heard the news I cried…with laughter. I was surprised that her beheading had finished her off since she seemed not to have used what was in her skull very much. Case in point, it turned out the 'oh so enticing' college kid was the youngest member of a hunting family and I don't mean the big game kind of hunter either. These guys hunt things that go bump in the night - ghosts, poltergeists, werewolves, revenants and my kind…vampires.

The Winchesters were unknown to me until Luther's band drew their attention - Kate and her need to show off. I even kinda liked Daniel Elkins; he was a funny old codger once you got to know him. Now just in case you didn't know, vampires can't be killed by wooden stakes, sunlight, crosses or any of the other silly things you see on Buffy. Mmm, Xander…yes, Angel is prettier but show me a geek and my knees go weak. Getting back on topic, fire will burn us and put quite a crimp in one's day but it won't kill us…there _is_ something to be said about being undead.

Strangely enough, the rumor was the Winchesters had used a gun to kill Luther. The thought of a vampire-killing gun scares me. No longer would you be able to smell the hunter - skunk cabbage, saffron and trillium ashes not withstanding - coming from a mile off with his or her little machete held high. It's a funny sight; I have the videos to prove it. I even put one up on You Tube - check out Vampyress16…on the other hand, it's better if you don't. Now they would be able to hide behind a handy rock, tree or building and take you out before you could even smell or hear them. Paranoia isn't just for the black helicopter people. Hey, I served as a nurse in the Civil War and a doctor in Korea and Vietnam so I know the feeling of being covertly watched very well and it's saved my butt on more than one occasion, a small skirmish called the '68 Têt Offensive comes to mind - if you get my drift.

Five months or so ago I was taking the trash out to the dumpster when I noticed an old, black muscle car pull into the parking lot of the Rusty Pig Bar and Grille. '_Kansas plates…far from home aren't we._' My mouth watered as I watched two delectable guys get out of the car and stroll nonchalantly into the bar, their scent was intoxicating. Hearing shouts of anger coming out of the screen door behind me, I wiped the drool from my chin and hurried back into the kitchen to find a customer screaming at one of the newer waitresses. After emasculating, figuratively I might add, the asshole and tossing him out of my kitchen, I peeked into the main portion of the bar and caught a glimpse of the two I had nicknamed 'Leather Jacket' and 'Jailbait'. Yeah I nickname my food, so sue me. Kinda ironic considering who the two turned out to be.

I spotted Leather Jacket over by one of the pool tables, looking like he was sizing up Jude - whose size and demeanor usually made most pool sharks rethink their tactics. '_This could be interesting_.' Curiosity getting the better of me, I yelled back to the kitchen crew that I was taking a break and went out to watch what proved to be quite an amazing shake down. Jude lost a sizeable chunk of change and boy was he pissed, but surprisingly he was able to control his rage and didn't 'fang out', so to speak, on the guy. Last time Jude lost this badly he took the guy out right there in the bar…in front of civilians. What a blood bath. We split town three steps ahead of the law. After we resettled, I and a few of the others demanded Jude's head be removed. I'm not sure what he has on Tom but whatever it is, it's big, cause Tom rejected our demands and Jude kept his head.

Back in the bar, Leather Jacket left the pool table and sauntered over to his buddy's table. Both of them sat back, sipping their beers and munching on the Pig's famous "Flaming Bear" nachos while trying to look like they weren't casing the joint. I watched them for a bit and during that short amount of time Jailbait - hmm…long hair, hazel eyes, high cheek bones - had surreptitiously pointed out to Leather Jacket - crew cut, green eyes, killer lips - several things that seemed to interest the two of them, including Jude, Noé and Gina. Leaning against the bar, I pulled my gaze away from the two and smiled at the bartender, Chas, who set down a tall glass containing a light liquid and a shot glass filled with a dark liquid. Picking up the shot glass, he dropped it into the tall one then slid the whole thing in front of me. "What's this?"

"Canadian Car Bomb," he answered. He wiped the bar counter and eyed me expectantly as I chugged it down. He's been trying out different 'insert your favorite city/country' car bomb drinks on me for a month now. Last month was body part themed drinks. There's nothing like being a bartender's guinea pig to make life a little bit more fun.

"Not bad," I gave a genteel cough, "the Roswell Car Bomb had a better kick though."

Jotting down my answer in his ever-present drink notebook he then glanced over to see what I'd been watching. Nodding his head in Jailbait's direction, he said the kid'd been asking odd questions concerning rowdy people in the neighborhood, specifically ones who'd started coming around in the last three months or so and who liked to party - loudly. The hairs on the back of my head stood up. Shit. While Chas and I were talking, Jude walked over to the two guys and loudly demanded a rematch. Double shit.

Tom and Charlee walked in about then so I went over and gave Tom a heads up. While we were talking Charlee sidled up to Jailbait and started running her fingers through his hair while tracing her other hand's fingers up and down his arm. She couldn't have been more obvious if she had a sign around her neck. When she thrust her barely covered breasts into the kid's face, his eyes opened wide and slid over to where his buddy was beating Jude's pants off again. I could hear his heart speed up and see the embarrassment in his eyes and creeping along his cheeks as he tried to look everywhere but at Charlee's overly endowed chest. Charlee, being the idiot she was, took this as interest and practically dragged the kid out the back door.

"Wow, subtle," I muttered sarcastically. Grinning, Tom told me what Charlee intended to do to the kid and what they were doing together afterwards. Eww! There's not enough bleach in this world to remove those images from my brain. I reiterated again that something wasn't right with those two. Tom blew me off, telling me I had it in for Charlee since day one. Then he said I needed to stop being so paranoid and to grab Leather Jacket before one of the others did and go have some fun.

Fun. Yeah. I don't think so. Hearing a ruckus we looked over to see Leather Jacket questioning patrons about his buddy's whereabouts. One helpful - read jealous - patron pointed at the back door while describing Charlee in vulgar terms and making lewd guesses at what they were doing out in the back alley. He and his friends laughed, clapping each other on the back when Leather Jacket frantically ran out the door.

Right then and there I decided to get the hell out of Dodge. I'm not getting myself beheaded just so Tom and Charlee can get their freak on with their food. I have my standards - no kids, no pregnant women and no probable hunters.

I told the head cook I wasn't feeling well and I was heading home…management does have its perks. Turning down a couple of offers for a ride, I drove off through the light drizzle. Luckily at two a.m. old Wally McCracken drunkenly riding his bicycle was the extent of the traffic. A sigh of relief escaped my lips upon not seeing Charlee's vehicle parked near the two-story ranch house, my now former home. At least she had the, I can't believe I'm saying this, the brains to play with her new toy in one of the concealed out lying buildings instead of at the house. I hurriedly packed my possessions; one backpack, two tough totes and a duffel bag later my Jeep was packed and ready to go. Running through my mental list I realized I was missing two important items - my cat…what, I can't have a pet?…and my laptop. The laptop I located in Lavinia's room, that thieving little bitch. And as all furry four-footed animals do when one is in a hurry, my tiger striped Tuna-boy found one of the most inaccessible spots possible to take a snooze. After luring the little fur ball out with, you guessed it - tuna, he got stuffed into the Cage from Hell, his words not mine, then into the Jeep.

The old Chevy passed by me on the highway going about eighty miles an hour in the opposite direction. I wished him luck but wasn't about to hold my breath. Three days later I laughed myself sick when I heard Charlee'd been beheaded. I wasn't saddened to hear Jude had also joined Charlee in the foot shorter category. I'd stumbled upon Lavinia's fate two months later. The bitch had found the perfect mark - rich, handsome, single and no close living relatives. Unluckily for Lavinia, he was also infected with a deadly virus…lycanthropy. From the looks of the pictures I'd managed to acquire, how the cops were able to identify her strewn - splashed - smeared, I think you get the picture, remains was some pretty damn astonishing forensics work. I also heard about two FBI agents who were looking into Lavinia's death and their descriptions fit Leather Jacket and Jailbait pretty much to a 't'. But since JB had been dragged off to a painful, bloody and horrendous death I decided to do some digging and located video footage of the agents. Well look it there, JB is either one extremely lucky guy or he's now one of us.

I continued researching, once I stopped laughing at their classic rock aliases - Lynott and Bell - gotta love Thin Lizzy. What I discovered after several hours of neck straining work sent an icy chill down my spine. I stared at the pictures displayed on my laptop screen - Sam and Dean Winchester. Holy shittin' god. Those two were Winchesters. Shock kept me glued to my chair barely able to breathe; shakily I reached out a hand for my cell and called Gina. She was crying when she answered. It took awhile to get her calmed down enough to where she could tell me what was wrong. Turns out Charlee, Jude and Lavinia were just the tip of the iceberg; someone or several someones were systematically hunting down and killing every member of the family. Out of twelve members there were only four left - Gina, Noé, Tom and I.

"We're leaving as soon as Noé gets back from the blood bank," Gina said sniffling slightly, I heard something being zipped in the background, "he knows some people down along the Texas - Mexico border who'll take us in. They have plenty of room, please come with us Xinnia."

I smiled in spite of the situation; Gina has always been a softhearted kid. "Thanks Gina, I appreciate the offer but I prefer to stay up north."

"If you change your mind give us a call. Okay?"

"Will do. You two be careful and stay under the radar."

"We will. Bye."

"'Til next time." Tears came to my eyes and a lump swelled in my throat as I hung up. Family members' moving on isn't unusual but this time is different, hunters are aggressively on our trail. Vampires are known to be a cagey lot but hunters…hunters take being secretive to whole new level. They kinda have to unless they want to spend some quality time in a straight jacket and a padded cell, but vampire hunters have an extra helping of crazy on top, which makes them even more dangerous. Gordon Walker is a fine example of the latter. Daniel Elkins, on the other hand, was just as nuts but to a lesser degree than Walker since he didn't take the same sick pleasure in torturing vampires before killing them. Wiping the tears away I started to collect my things, it was time to move again.

Two weeks after settling down in my newest place I had my first houseguest, an unwanted one at that. What possessed Tom to track me down is something I don't want to dwell on. I came home later than normal one morning and there he was, in my kitchen making himself at home. "Get out Tom," I said angrily, glaring at him in disgust.

He laughed a crazy laugh that turned my blood to ice. "Noé and Gina are dead, Xinnia. Now it's just you and me."

"You're lying."

He tossed a manila envelope at me, "see for yourself." Opening the envelope, I pulled out several 8x10 black and white photos showing two partially burned, headless corpses. "They didn't go easily Xinnia. They were tortured, set on fire while still alive then their heads cut off. We have to go after the bastards who did this before they do the same thing to us!"

Dropping the photos I turned, grabbing fistfuls of Tom's jacket and dragging the bastard towards the door. "Those bodies could be anyone! Now get the hell out of my house!"

"It was them, I saw it happen!" he yelled back, breaking my hold and shoving me hard enough backwards that I fell and hit my head on the edge of the kitchen counter. Lights out for me.

When I came to, I found myself strapped to a chair in a living room that wasn't my own. Struggling against the twisted steel cables I screamed, "Tom you god-damned bastard! Let me out of this chair right now!" Yeah I know not very original but my head was pounding and I was pissed.

A cold hand stroked my hair and an even colder voice laughed, "language Xinnia, language. What would your saintly parents say if they heard you utter such vile words?"

"Fuck you Tom," I growled shaking his hand off my head, "what in the hell are you trying to pull?"

"Revenge."

I turned around the best I could to stare incredulously at him. "Revenge? Revenge for what? For telling you your idiotic girlfriend was drawing the attention of the wrong people? Or your guys' sick sex game with the wrong kid? If you two idiots thought with the brains in your head and not the ones in your…" His right hook took me by surprise. '_Man that hurt,_' I thought, spitting blood on the floor, '_I think he cracked my cheekbone._'

"Shut up bitch!" he bellowed. "You're bait Xinnia, the hunters who killed Charlee are in town, following the trail I laid for them. When they get here I'll hand you over to them and after they kill you, I'll kill them."

"You're a vampire Tom…they're hunters; do the math!" I kept twisting my wrists trying to get my hands free, the cables binding my arms to the chair bit cruelly into my skin and were soon slick with blood. Something Tom said earlier popped into my head. "_You_ killed them. You killed Gina and Noé!" The smile he gave me was all the proof I needed. "You sick son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" I screamed, the chair lurching as I fought to break the cables so I could wrap my hands around Tom's laughing face and rip his head off his body.

Still laughing, Tom shoved a knotted bandana into my mouth, tying it tightly behind my head. He seemed to enjoy my muffled swearing as he bent down to look me in the eye. "Xinnia, you would've been one hell of a lay if you weren't such a cold bitch." He ran a finger through the blood on my wrist then sucked it off, closing his eyes in pleasure; which gave me the opportunity to slam my forehead into the bridge of his nose. The throbbing in my head was worth Tom's surprised grunt of pain and uncoordinated backwards stagger. Although I may change my mind, once I can think coherently that is, after Tom beat me until I was almost unconscious.

I'm barely able to keep my eyes open, it's impossible to breathe through my nose and difficult to breathe through the knot in the bandana, plus when I lift up my head everything spins. Therefore, when the front door suddenly bursts open and two large men rush in, I wasn't so sure it was real. Tom let out a deep hiss and yanked my head back by my hair. "Told ya we were following a vampire Sammy," I heard the man in dark blue say. Winchesters - one's really tall and the other's really cute…wait where have I heard that phrase before? Anyways, Dean and Sam Winchester, lovely to look at but scary as hell.

"Yes she is," Tom replied smoothly as something sharp bit into my neck, "she's left a trail of drained and burned bodies from Texas to Wisconsin." I choked on the blood flowing down the back of my throat. "She killed my partner and she almost got me too before I could inject her with dead man's blood." Out of the corner of my eye I saw the men split up, moving along opposite sides of the room.

"How did you manage not to become her next meal?" asked the tall man in green on the left.

Tom snickered then shoved the sharp object further into my neck, "I'm very good at what I do," he replied.

"Almost killed you huh," one of them said sharply, "well you look pretty damn uninjured for someone who went up against a vampire."

Tom's reply was lost as a burning pain overwhelmed my senses. I uncontrollably bucked against the steel bindings and my hands spasmodically clenched the chair arms as fire raced through my body. '_Dead man's blood!', _barely had time to flash through my brain before I passed out.

Waking up sucked, my head and body hurt so bad I just wanted to pass out again, the loud rock music didn't help the throbbing in my head much either. Nausea struck when I shifted onto my back, placing an arm over my stomach and the other over my eyes I murmured, "man, I think I'm going to hurl."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Lifting my arm and blinking rapidly, I turned my head towards the voice. Slanted hazel eyes stared down at me.

"Shit," I struggled to sit up and move farther away, "Winchesters," I whispered, my eyes sliding back and forth between the two men in the front seat. My reaction would've been comical if I hadn't been so scared.

"If she damages the upholstery Sam we're shoving her into the trunk," said the driver turning the music down.

Using my feet, I pushed myself into the corner of the backseat and glanced around the car. "Wha…what…where's Tom?" I stuttered.

"Dead," Sam answered simply.

"Permanently this time," Dean added, our eyes meeting briefly in the rearview mirror.

Looking down a flash of white on my wrists caught my eye; I brought my arms up and stared at them in shock, not believing hunters had bound my wounds. I wrapped my arms around my shaking body. "Why aren't I?"

Sam's eyes narrowed in puzzlement, "why aren't you dead too?" I nodded slightly.

"You're already dead lady," Dean said sarcastically.

"Technically," I countered. This was becoming all too surreal for me, hunters don't help vampires, they don't converse with vampires - it's usually 'hack 'em, slash 'em, it's Miller time!' I was half expecting to wake up still strapped to the chair with Tom chattering on, in convoluted and definitely off the deep end detail, about his plans for revenge. Rain streaked the windows in long rivulets causing strange shadows to be thrown by the widely spaced streetlights as Dean drove down the dark highway. "Why do I still have my head? Hunters usually kill every vampire in sight."

The brothers turned to each other and I could almost see their silent communication. Sam twisted around and stared at me like he was expecting antennas to sprout out of my head or something, then he replied, "Lenore."

Well that's a shocker, considering the last time Lenore and I parted company it wasn't under the pleasantest of circumstances, which happens when you tell someone they're the vampire light model since they live off animal blood instead of human. They say hind sight is 20/20 and I've come to regret my lack of tolerance in light of what I'll have to do to survive in the future. Lost in thought, my witty response came out as, "huh?"

"Lenore asked us for a favor," Sam expanded, "she asked us…"

"Not to kill you," Dean interrupted, not sounding very happy.

Startled I looked up at Dean, or to be more precise, the back of his head. "Not to kill… Lenore; about five/six, dark hair, with a penchant for cowboy boots and cow's blood? That Lenore?" I looked over at Sam then back at Dean. "She asked two _hunters_ for a favor? And you agreed?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice. Hunters doing a favor for a vampire - what's next a demon helping hunters out of the kindness of its black heart? I muttered under my breath, "Winchesters are a strange breed of hunter."

"Excuse me? Your buddy killed at least seven bloodsuckers and you're upset because we saved you from becoming victim number eight on the vampire serial killer hit parade? We could have left you tied up back there you know."

"Dean, unrestrained vampire at six o'clock." Sam looked back at me with a lame smile and scratched the back of his head.

Dean shrugged and continued talking, occasionally turning his head towards the younger man, "just so you know, if your fangs come out, if you breathe funny, if you try anything, all bets are off. Your head rolls. Lenore be damned."

"God, this day can't possibly get any worse." My stomach took that moment to growl in hunger. I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back, hoping when I opened them again that the last few hours would turn out to be just a nasty dream. Opening my eyes I looked around, '_nope, not lucky'_. I sighed. "What now? We shake hands, all is forgiven and I go on my merry way?"

"No," replied Dean.

Sam gave his brother a look of warning. "We'll be back at your place in two hours. We agreed not to kill you, this time, but if we meet again…."

"We won't," I interrupted.

The older brother growled out, "see that we don't." This ended the conversation right there. The Winchesters kept their word and a little over two hours later dropped me off at my house. I said a curt 'thank you'. Dean nodded his head and Sam gave me a grim smile before they pulled out, throwing gravel and clumps of dead grass behind them. As crappy as I was feeling, I still broke the land speed record for leaving town.

A couple times over the next few years, I'd catch a glimpse of an old black car gliding around a corner or reflected in a shop window. A chill ran up and down my spine every time and I'd leave town soon after. Lately I've been finding myself apprehensively looking over my shoulder or looking out the window. Something malevolent is in the wind; some ancient evil has been set loose. I fill with foreboding when I look outside again and see a black Chevy Impala sitting at the curb. My front door splinters open and two men holding machetes enter. My time has co…….

_**FIN**_


End file.
